Categories > Original > Drama > To Be Left Behind

Sunset

by totheark 0 reviews

Insanity or 'coping'?

Category: Drama - Rating: PG-13 - Genres:  - Published: 2013-05-01 - Updated: 2013-05-01 - 934 words

0Unrated
Sleep is an impossibly unpredictable thing. On one hand, I hate it more than I hate birds that chirp at six in the morning, and on the other it seems all I can do anymore to just fall asleep and hope to never wake up. It’s almost like a drug; for a little while it takes the curve off the pain, but then the dreams push you down and torment you, making you worse than you started. Isn’t that terrible? The simplest things like breathing and sleeping give me a world of guilt and frustration now. Sleep is nothing, though, compared to the hell I put up with at the Shrink’s office. I hate it. It’s unnecessary. It’s cruel. The judgmental eyes watching my every move, the ‘I understand how you feel’s and the ‘it’s okay to feel sad’s. No one understands, especially some stupid trained ‘professional’. I just can’t explain to anyone really how it’s not just sad that I feel, and it’s not okay to feel this way. It’s hell to feel this way. No one should ever have to feel what my reality feels like. Hopeless, pointless, the pain of knowing nobody but her could chase the world away.*]
/]
[/

I miss her so much. It’s unfortunate that a three letter word, ‘m-i-s-s’ has no way of defining what it was meant to define. Miss doesn’t mean crippling loneliness and heartbreak. Miss doesn’t mean knowing there’s never a chance of seeing her again. It can’t even imply the torture her absence brings me. She was a sister, a friend, a silent confidant that was always there. Whenever she came home with frustrations of any kind, or I just got sick of life, we’d go to the lake and just talk. I didn’t have to watch what I said around her, and she understood. She knew exactly when it was okay to interrupt and when it wasn’t the time to point out my mistakes. I knew what she needed with a nod of her head, and almost always it was a friend; someone to put an arm around her and smile. We didn’t hang out at school at all, and we never went in public together; she was my ‘behind the curtain’ support, and I was hers. We were friends ever since we were little kids; ever since it was okay for boys to play with girls because no one cared about the differences. No one can fix the broken bond now, though. Not Aiden, and I’ve known him since third grade. Aiden just doesn’t get it, doesn’t get me, he’s just there because I have no friends and he has none either. I don’t believe in him anymore. I don’t believe in myself anymore. God, things are pointless. Absolutely pointless.



The sunset was absolutely breathtaking. The orange, low-lying sun bled its red light onto the fluffy clouds, and the rolling water reflected the spectacle back up at the sinking sun. It was a large lake, so big you couldn’t see the other side. There were rocky cliffs overlooking the banks, but trees aplenty grew through the boulders, curving into odd shapes to reach out to the sun. Along one of these contorted trees, there was a figure sitting alone, face towards the sun. Demetri straddled the thick trunk of the willow tree, tears cascading down his cheeks like the leaves of the tree that reached down towards the water.


“Remember this? How we used to come out here, on the weekends. You always said it was a magic lake, full of life. And then I said ‘you girls have too big of an imagination, this here is one big stinkin’ lake’. Then you laughed… I never got to tell you how amazing your laugh was.” He said somberly, to himself. Or maybe it was to the air, or the trees.


“I never got to tell you a lot of things that I should’ve, that I wish I had… This is really the only place I feel free anymore. You were more than a friend… You were my freedom. To be alone, but not really. To be me… I can’t believe I lost that. I can’t believe I lost you…” Suddenly he stopped talking, as if it’d finally hit him that talking to himself was insane. He didn’t feel insane… Demetri had been under so much stress and angst, but… He thought he’d be able to tell when his mind shifted from normal to insane. At least he hoped he could. If he couldn’t tell, his mind must’ve already cracked under all the grief. But it didn’t feel like he was crazy, it just felt like… She was there. Whenever he was alone, he felt like he could turn around and see her there. He tried to sneak out whenever he could, which was hard because of the whole suicide watch he was put on, but he always managed it when his mom was on watch. She always seemed to get distracted or fall asleep; another reason why he preferred his dad. At least he pretended to care, as his mom didn’t bother to hide her blatant disinterest.


“Well, good night Calle.” He whispered, tossing a small pebble into the water far below. He proceeded to climb down and walk back to his house, making it conveniently before his mother awoke from her prolonged nap.
Sign up to rate and review this story